


Four Letter Words

by shaarkteeth



Category: Reign (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 14:02:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1094767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaarkteeth/pseuds/shaarkteeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary Stuart, a popular socialite and fashion blogger, is dating Francis, the son of a millionaire record company tycoon. Sebastian, Francis’ step brother and infamous trouble maker has recently made his way onto her radar, and against her better judgment, Mary finds herself sneaking out with him after dark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A loud knocking woke both Mary and her flatmate Lola. She had a feeling she knew exactly who was on the other side of her door, but if she was right it would only make her less willing to get out of bed. The knocking finally subsided when Lola went to answer the door. Mary pulled the covers over her head with a groan.

“Mary. It’s the boy and his army of security. He’s come to pick you up for your date.” Lola’s voice was all but dripping in annoyance.

Mary sighed and emerged from the covers. “Tell him I’ll be out in ten minutes.” Her roommate nodded and went back into the living room, where voices drifted to the bedroom. Lola told him to wait. He responded with a grumble that he would, but not for long. Not that he could do anything about it anyway.

When she finally emerged from the bathroom, Francis was typing away on his phone. He glanced up when he heard her enter and raised an eyebrow. “You’re not really going to leave your hair like that are you?”

“It’s a coffee date, Francis. Or would you rather wait here while I go take a shower and do my make up all over again?” She grabbed her bag and keys, hoping he could hear the annoyance in her voice. 

Francis rolled his eyes and crossed to the door. He opened it for her, his smile forced. “Let’s get this over with, then.”

Much to Mary’s dismay, Francis insisted the couple take the car. It was ostentatious. She always felt like she was drawing unwanted attention whenever she rode in the thing, but she guessed that was kind of the point. The goal was for as many people to see the “happy couple” out in public as possible. It was a vulgar arrangement, but unfortunately necessary. Henry, Francis’ father, needed good press for his company, and Mary needed the exposure if she wanted to keep her apartment. It took some getting used to. Eventually, the two began to warm up to each other. But Henry started demanding they been seen in public more often, and it certainly put a damper on their relationship. 

The coffee place was less crowded than usual. It was the usual haunt for Mary and Francis (meaning it was the first place the press looked when they got news Mary was actually leaving her flat). Francis stepped out of his car and offered Mary his hand. With a reluctant sigh, she let him lead her into the shop.

“I’ll find us a seat.” She released his hand.

“What do you want?”

“I don’t care. You can order whatever you want.” 

Mary left his side to find a table by the windows. A few customers glanced at her curiously, but everyone’s attention was mostly fixed on her date. It was easy to see why. Francis charmed people without meaning to. Mary would often see him frowning or concentrating on something, but occasionally she would catch a glimpse of his smile. Even now, as he was flirting with the barista, she could see him really happy – even if it was just for a moment.

Francis cleared his throat, breaking her train of thought. He set a mug of steaming tea in front of her. “I hope I guessed correctly.”

“It’s hard for me to find a tea I don’t like.”

“That’s a relief, then.” He laughed, taking a sip of his own drink. Mary couldn’t help but smile in return.

“How long are we staying here, Francis?” She sighed.

He shrugged. “Once we finish our drinks. Then we can go get ready.”

“Get ready?”

He fixed her with a stare over his cup. When he was met with only a blank expression, Francis groaned. “Don’t tell me you forgot already! The party my father is throwing tonight? Our house?”

“Oh.”

“You completely forgot, didn’t you?”

Caught, Mary sank lower in her seat. She tried to avoid looking at the camera pointed at her through the window. “Possibly.”

“Do we need to go buy you a dress?”

“No,” She shot him an indignant look, “I have plenty of dresses.”

“A fashion blogger who’s actually willing to recycle outfits. That’s a first.” He scoffed.

And just like that, any respect Mary was holding for Francis went out the window. “You don’t have to be so rude about it. I’ll find something. And I’ll be there on time. I’m not completely unreliable, you know.”

“Surprisingly.”

It took all her might not to slam her mug down on the table. A few people in the café were starting to watch them. Francis saw Mary’s hands shaking.

“I’m sorry, Mary. I didn’t mean it. It’s just… you know how hard this is for me. I don’t like this arrangement just as much as you do.”

“You could do better at pretending you like me, at the very least.”

He sighed, “I know. How about we consider tonight a fresh start to the week? We can make our appearances, act civilly in love, then go home to our respective significant others.”

Mary raised her eyebrows but didn’t ask. He may be dating someone else in secret, but the only “significant other” she had was her dog, Stirling. She refused to admit she was a little jealous. Francis’ phone buzzed, breaking the silence. He took a final sip of his drink and stood up to grab his coat. Mary stayed seated.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He tried his best to crack a smile and kissed her cheek. Once he was gone (bringing the few cameras with him), she wiped frantically at her face with a napkin. Her tea was cold.

Mary returned her mug. Her sole intention was to go home and go back to bed for a few hours, where she wouldn’t have to think about dealing with Francis twice in one day. 

She was so focused on making it to the Underground in peace she barely noticed the man she collided into, spilling some kind of hot drink all over his shirt. Mary froze in horror, and the stranger stood there with an odd expression on his face.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She tried wiping at his shirt, but she was pretty sure the stain wouldn’t be coming out.

“Obviously. Don’t worry about it, though. It happens more often than you’d think,” He smiled and glanced down at her hand. “I don’t think that’s working.”

Embarrassed, Mary dropped her hand. “I’m really sorry. I’m not usually this oblivious. How can I make it up to you?”

“You don’t have to, really.”

“No, I ruined your shirt. I insist.”

“I can always replace it,” He glanced down at his clothes, tugging at the hem of his leather jacket. “The leather, on the other hand…”

“I’m really sorry.”

“You’re not going to stop apologizing, are you?”

“No.”

He laughed. It was a pleasant sound. Mary couldn’t help but smile as the stranger’s eyes lit up in amusement, “Tell you what – you buy me another drink and maybe I’ll forgive you.”

“Right now?”

“Unless you have somewhere else to be…”

“No! Right now is fine.” She opened the café door for him. He mirrored her smile and stepped inside, immediately heading for a table by the window. She tried not to think about the fact that it was the same table she and Francis occupied only minutes prior.

While waiting for their drinks to be made, Mary could feel the stranger’s eyes fixed on her. She didn’t get the feeling that she should be scared of him, oddly enough. She actually felt like she might actually be able to trust him.

“I guessed and got you tea, is that okay?” She smiled as she placed the cup in front of him. The corners of his mouth twitched up and he nodded a thanks. 

“I’m always fine with tea. So, are you going to tell me your name or do I have to take a wild guess?” 

“I’m Mary. Call me Mary.” 

“Right, ‘Call-me-Mary,’ my name’s Bash.”

“Bash?”

“It’s a nickname.”

“You’re not going to tell me your full name?”

“I could, but that would ruin the suspense.” 

Mary laughed, “I suppose that means I’ll have to ruin another one of your shirts to find out, then.” 

Bash flashed her a grin, and they fell into brief silence. Mary was surprised that she was comfortable in his presence. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy she could be herself around (he was practically the walking “tall, dark, and handsome” stereotype), but he had a way of speaking that was actually quite charming. It was a nice change of pace after having Francis for company. 

“I really hate to cut this short, but I have to go. I have an event to get to tonight.”

“You say that like it’s a prison sentence.” He stood up, gesturing for her to walk in front of him.

“It might as well be.”

“Oh, it can’t be that bad, Mary.”

“Oh, it really is, Bash.” She blushed and ducked out the door. Bash followed her, easily sliding past a man with a camera to block Mary from his view. 

“Well, here’s the thing. I’ve not got much else to do today, so I’ll only leave you alone if you promise to meet me here again. Same time next week?”

Mary didn’t even have a chance to respond. Her new acquaintance was already heading towards the crosswalk before she could entirely process what just happened.


	2. Chapter 2

Two hours, a lot of makeup, and various high-heeled shoes later, Mary wedged into a cab on the way to Francis’ house. She expected to be in a horrible mood, but her earlier meeting with Bash still had her stomach doing somersaults. 

Lola completely lost it once Mary told her what happened, as expected, but she seemed to be just as interested in this new man as her friend. Despite various warnings on “being too quick to trust,” Lola never told her friend not to take Bash up on his offer of a second date. 

“This the place, miss?” The driver snapped Mary out of her thoughts. Francis’ house loomed over her, all lit up to accompany the loud music blaring from it. And to think – this was all his father’s idea. 

“Yes, thank you.” She paid the man and awkwardly shuffled out of the cab. She froze on the curb. There was a whole line of men and women armed with cameras and microphones. She didn’t expect anything less from Henry and his new wife Diana. Maybe she’d even see the famed stepbrother Francis was always grumbling about. 

Mary posed for a few photos on the way up. It was times like these when she was most grateful that she was so good at faking a smile. She eventually managed to get away from all the flash photography and inside Henry’s mansion. Apparently, the press wasn’t allowed inside.

It was hard to think with the music blaring so loud. People were scattered all over the place. Some gathered at the bar but most were too drunk to do anything but attempt to dance. Mary searched the crowd for familiar faces. She hated parties. They made her do crazy things like drive her to look for Francis of all people. Having no luck, she weaved her way to the bar. If she couldn’t find anyone she knew, then she deserved a drink at the very least. Well, maybe more than one.

“Mary! There you are!” Francis waved a hand in her direction, trying to get past the people crowding around the bar. “I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “I’d never hear the end of that one.”

“You’re still late.”

“By 30 minutes! It seems like I didn’t miss much, though.”

“Father was expecting you a while ago.”

She sighed and set down her glass, refilling it quickly. “I suppose I should say hello…”

Francis grinned (he was obviously a little drunk already) and grabbed her hand. He pulled Mary through the kitchen and into the main living room. The place was huge. It was a wonder anyone ever managed to navigate through it. 

Standing in the centre of the room happily chatting to a few guests were Henry and his wife, Diana. They looked like a picture of happiness – arms around each other and smiling happily. It was a shame they could hardly stand each other. Mary had to admire their acting abilities.

“Father! Mary’s here.” Francis interrupted the conversation. He pulled Mary into his side. She shifted away and shook Henry’s hand, but Diana offered no movement. She simply stared down her nose at Mary. Henry nodded in respect and continued speaking with his guests. Mary suddenly had a pressing urge to leave.

When she tried to excuse herself, Francis pulled her back. “Hold on, I see my stepbrother. You need to meet him before you go get another drink.”

“I do?”

“You do. Sebastian!” He waved at someone in the crowd, leading Mary away from his father. A man waved back. It was hard to see what he looked like from her distance.

As Sebastian came closer, Mary almost ran for the door. She recognised those bright eyes, not to mention the way his mouth seemed to always form a tiny smirk. He was wearing the same leather jacket from that morning, his hair still looking dishevelled. Bash. Sebastian. She could almost kick herself.

“Sebastian, I want you to meet Mary, my girlfriend.” Francis let go of Mary to clasp his brother’s shoulder in a friendly greeting. Bash’s smirk got bigger.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mary. Call me Bash, please.” He extended a hand.

“Nice to meet you… Bash.” She quickly shook his hand, hoping Francis missed the look she gave him. He obviously loved this whole situation. Although she was a bit surprised he didn’t tell his brother they’d already met. Maybe he was playing along for his own amusement. 

Mary cleared her throat. “Well, I think I could really use another drink. Excuse me.” She pried herself away from Francis with a smile.

Bash nodded, “I think I could go for a drink as well. I’ll find you later, Francis.”

“Don’t run off together while I’m gone.” Francis laughed. Mary couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

She followed Bash to the bar. Despite how awkward she felt and how much she wanted to escape, Mary decided she would leave after she got Bash’s story. And decide whether or not she still wanted to meet him next week. 

He was the first to speak. “You look like you could use a drink.” He handed her a glass, actually smiling for the first time that night.

“You could’ve told me you were Francis’ stepbrother.”

“That would’ve ruined the fun.”

“I don’t see how this is fun. You knew I was going to be at that coffee place with your brother, didn’t you?”

Bash sighed, downing his drink, “I promise you, Mary, meeting you today was purely coincidental. A very happy coincidence, though.” He began to refill his glass. Mary couldn’t help but smile. 

After a minute (and several more drinks), Bash was scowling at the crowd surrounding the bar. He leaned against the counter. “Do you want to get out of here as much as I do?” He whispered.

Mary laughed and nodded. She set her glass down. Bash appraised her with a smile and grabbed her hand, weaving the two of them through the sea of bodies to the door. 

She stopped him before he could turn the knob. “Wait. We can’t go out this door. Too much press.”

“Right, back door it is then.” 

Mary gripped his hand tight as they walked. Bash was manoeuvring them in a way that avoided his family and somehow got them out of the house unseen. 

“Finally, fresh air,” Mary laughed, releasing Bash’s hand. “So, where to?” 

“Follow me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled. 

They walked until the thumping party music was barely noticeable, the house long out of sight. The trip was mostly spent in silence, but occasionally one of them would break the silence. Bash revealed he got most of his money from boxing. He never specified if it was legal or not. Mary told him about meeting Francis online and Henry’s idea to set them up. She left out the part about regretting ever agreeing to it. 

“Ah, here we are.” Bash opened the gate to the empty park. Mary stepped past him and sat on one of the swings. She pulled the sleeves of his jacket over her hands (he’d happily given it to her when she started shivering). 

“So, there’s one thing I don’t understand about your story.” Bash sat next to Mary, staring up at the sky.

“Go on.”

“If you can’t stand Francis, why the hell did you ever agree to date him?”

Mary sighed. She hoped to avoid this particular topic, mainly because she didn’t fully understand herself. “Looking back, I don’t know. Honestly. Maybe because I was young and stupidly naïve?” 

“It was two months ago.”

“Younger and naïve.”

Bash laughed. He had a nice laugh. It was quiet, but it never sounded forced. 

The two of them got quiet again. Mary stared down at her hands, her mind replaying what it felt like for Bash to hold them. She knew it wasn’t right, but she couldn’t help compare it to holding Francis’ hand. It didn’t feel the same. With Francis, she felt like she had to in order to not get left behind. Bash’s hand felt different; rough, most likely from his “career,” but not unpleasant.

Mary cleared her throat. “So, you said you get money from boxing?”

“Yeah. Well, sort of.”

“’Sort of?’”

Bash shrugged, “Our matches usually don’t include padding.”

“So it’s just fighting, then?”

“No, not exactly,” he sighed. “There’s more thought to it than that. It takes more technique than just flat out beating someone up.” 

“Hmm.”

“Why don’t you come see for yourself?”

Mary wasn’t sure she heard him right, but Bash had a mischievous gleam in his eyes. She laughed, “I beg your pardon?”

“Why don’t you come to one of my fights? You can see what I mean in person.”

“I… I don’t know, Bash.”

“What’s stopping you?”

Nothing. She should have a good reason, but Mary knew there was nothing stopping her from going. When she didn’t answer, he stood in front of her.

“Next week, after getting coffee, I can take you to where the match will be. It’s hard to find on your own.”

“I never agreed to that coffee date.”

“You never refused, either.”

Caught. Mary smiled and stood up, nodding in agreement. “Alright, I’ll come.”

Bash grinned. He motioned to the gate. Mary knew she should probably be feeling uneasy at this point, but when she was with Bash she felt safer than she had in months - even when the flash of a camera practically blinded her.

Mary groaned. Bash immediately shielded her with an arm. He said something to the reporter that Mary couldn’t quite make out, and then they were running. He’d grabbed her hand, tugging her along behind him as they sprinted down the street. He weaved through several alleys and crosswalks before finally slowing to a stop. 

Mary searched for the reporter. She honestly wasn’t even sure if the guy had given chase. 

Bash was laughing. When she turned to look at him, he had his hands on his knees and was breathing heavily, but he was definitely laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Never in my life have I had to run away from a man with nothing but a camera.” 

Mary laughed with him. “Wasn’t it fun?”

“It was, actually. You live a thrilling life, Mary Stuart.” 

She smiled in response. He stepped closer. Flustered, she realized she was still wearing his jacket. She was about to pull it off when Bash stopped her.

“I’ll let you borrow it a while longer.”

“Are you sure? It’s really warm.”

He shrugged. “I’ll see you again soon, anyway. For now, I have to go before Francis starts drunk dialling me again.”

“Goodnight, Bash.”

“See you soon, Mary.”

She watched as he hailed down a taxi for her. On the way home, all Mary could think about was how much trouble she was likely to get in with this Sebastian, and how much she would enjoy it.


	3. Chapter 3

Mary’s stomach was churning. It didn’t feel like the first-date kind of nausea – it was more of the oh-God-what-am-I-doing kind. Despite whatever obligations she had to Francis, here she was watching his step-brother fighting… and losing horribly (she did suppose he never actually told her if he was any good or not.)

Bash was sweet, sure. Mary found she could be herself around him. But she already had to dodge too many prying questions. Thankfully, there weren’t any pictures. Mary supposed that might also be paranoia talking. This was the first time she’d seen Bash since Henry’s party. 

The noise of the crowd left her ears ringing long after the match was over. She elbowed and “excuse me”-d her way through the spectators, desperate for some fresh air. Bash was waiting for her outside, an icepack pressed to his now-swelling eye. When he raised a hand to wave her over, she could see his bloodied knuckles. 

“Why didn’t you wrap your hands?”

Bash shrugged. “Doesn’t do much.”

“Congrats, by the way.”

“Thanks. Did you have fun?” Bash grinned and removed the ice for a moment. His eye was purple already. Mary winced.

“It was… an experience. I’m glad you won.”

“That doesn’t usually happen. Maybe you gave me good luck tonight.”

“I doubt it.” Her phone started buzzing in her pocket, startling her. Mary gave Bash an apologetic look, answering in a hushed tone, “Hey, Francis… Well, actually I’m- no, not right now. I’m a little busy at the moment. That? It’s an event Lola dragged me to. I’ll call you back later, alright? Bye.”

Bash raised an eyebrow, then realised with a hiss that was a mistake. 

“Sorry.” Mary felt like throwing her phone across the field. 

“It’s fine. I’ll get us a cab, yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

As they walked, Mary found she was having a hard time looking away from Bash. She definitely considered him a friend, even though she’d only known him for little more than a week. She could’ve sworn only a month ago she swore to herself she would never end up in this kind of situation. 

Bash cleared his throat once they were inside the cab. “I hope that wasn’t too… graphic for you. Granted, that was more docile than usual, but it was still pretty-“

“Violent?”

“Intense.”

Mary laughed. “I’m not a fragile person, Bash. I can handle a little blood and violence once in a while. I don’t like to surround myself with it, that’s all.”

“Then I may not be the best choice of a friend.” He scratched at the back of his head, looking at her with a weird look.

“How do you mean?”

“Mary, this is practically my lifestyle. When my mother married Henry, I promised myself I would never, ever live off any of his money. But I’m not too skilled at anything besides throwing punches, so that’s what I decided to do. Most people, especially my mother, keep pushing for me to ‘get a real job.’ Whatever that means.”

Mary shrugged. “As long as it makes you happy, Bash, I don’t think anyone has the right to stop you. You know, as long as you decide not to rob a bank or anything.”

Bash laughed. He seemed to visibly relax. “Rest assured, I won’t do anything like that… for now.”

Mary was determined not to let things get awkward between them. She didn’t know how Bash felt (he most likely had a girl he loved somewhere), but she wasn’t about to let Francis come between a great friendship between her and his step-brother.

It seemed like Bash was thinking the same, because when he walked her up to her building he said, “I hope Francis isn’t going to become an obstacle between us.”

“Why would he?”

“Because you’re dating him and I’m his step-brother. Things might get awkward if he starts… assuming things.”

“He tends to overreact about a few things, but if it comes to it, I’ll explain the situation to him.”

“Will he listen?”

Mary sighed. “No guarantees.”

Bash seemed like he wanted to say something else, but his expression changed and he merely stated, “he’s not so bad under all that arrogance.”

Mary couldn’t help but smile. She’d stepped inside the building already. She was looking out at Bash, leaning against the door. “I know.”

“See you soon, Mary.”

“Bye, Bash.” 

He smiled and waved. Mary watched him as he walked down the street, trying as hard as possible to keep her thoughts relatively friend-like. But even as she waited in the elevator and prepared for an earful from Lola, his blue eyes wouldn’t leave her mind. 

 

Bash’s head was spinning. He’d returned to his shoddy flat only to collapse on the bed and stare at the wall for a good part of an hour. Mary, Mary, Mary, Mary… God dammit. He punched his pillow, wincing from his bruised knuckles. Of course, the first girl he’s really been interested in in years would be dating Francis. Of course, he would behave like a lovesick puppy around her.

He supposed the best option would be to stay away. To tell her he’s been busy or maybe he wouldn’t say anything at all. But that would be cruel, and he wasn’t sure he could even begin to do that to her.

But he did have another option: he could try to persuade her. Maybe if he stayed around her long enough, got her to trust him, she would let him in. He was sure the whole thing with Francis wasn’t real.

Bash couldn’t do that either. He didn’t want to complicate things even more for her. He decided then, face down on his bed staring at a blank wall, that he would keep things exactly they way they were at that very moment.


End file.
